


What Kind of Heaven Is Open To Us All

by gala_apples



Category: Macdonald Hall - Gordon Korman
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, references to Cathy/Diane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:33:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22236385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: Sometimes Cathy is a guy, which can be a difficult thing when you go to an all girls Finishing School. But she's got friends who understand her, and that's all that really matters.
Relationships: Cathy Burton/Boots O'Neal/Bruno Walton
Kudos: 2





	What Kind of Heaven Is Open To Us All

**Author's Note:**

> written for the seasonofkink prompt genderplay.
> 
> I started writing this after coming out to my boss as genderfluid. My personal experience with pronouns and not changing my name reflects in Cathy's choices, though I understand that everyone experiences things differently.
> 
> Oh, and if you're not familiar with gymnastics, while the sport is generally co-ed, there's an offshoot called rhythmic gymnastics that involves using tools like balls or ribbons or hoops, and rhythmic gymnastics is female only.

There are a lot of things Cathy likes about Scrimmage’s. It can’t be denied; being enrolled here has been a good time. Adventures, made all the better for Macdonald Hall across the highway. It’s just sometimes really difficult, being the only sometimes-a-boy. Most of the time she won’t let herself think about it. Not in the environments she’s forced to be in. Constant dysphoria would be a one way road to suicide, and Cathy is a lot of things but she’s not a fucking statistic. She refuses to give anyone the satisfaction.

You don’t send your kid to boarding school if you like having them at home. It’s a basic rule that no one really discusses. Some issues are more obvious than others. She knows that Dora’s parents are high society WASPs that don’t understand caring about anything, never mind Jordie Jones’ current celebrity goings on. In fact, most of her female friends have too many gauche feelings, in one way or another. That’s why Finishing School as opposed to an academic boarding school. It’s in the name; starry-eyed parents who want their unruly daughters edited and molded and polished into a pretty finished package. The guys are at least a little more varied. She knows that the Hackenschlimers assume that Wilbur’s food intake is being monitored. She knows the Drimsdales are sports fanatics who probably shit their pants in glee when they believed that Elmer was on the football team. If there’s anything Cathy regrets about that semester it’s that Elmer had to have the _no, that wasn’t actually me, finally fulfilling your dreams_ talk.

That’s why this semester’s new activity revolves around telling no one. Other people’s expectations are something Cathy’s always blown off, but they can’t even have expectations if they don’t know anything. Not that it’s a secret little game, in particular. It’s a survival method. It’s to reaffirm that the etiquette and the dress code and the baking haven’t gotten to her yet. Sometimes it even feels sexual. When a completed mission goes well there’s no beating that thrill.

The first step is to get out of Scrimmage’s. Nine times out of ten that means climbing down the drainpipe as quickly as she can so she doesn’t flash anyone. Once in a while Cathy sneaks out the front door, but that’s a pretty good way to trigger Ms Scrimmage’s senses. Then it’s a dash across the highway, listening every step for Scrimmage’s ‘Halt! Intruders’, in which case she’ll have to invent an excuse on the spot. The self-destructive part of her that cares about passing more than anything else wants to be caught one day, caught and not recognised and dragged to the Fish for a lecture. The rest of her knows that’s fucking stupid, and that she’s far better off going unseen.

Presuming she makes it to the perimeter of Macdonald Hall, Cathy’s first stop is always Perry’s room. Xe’s the only one that knows. Well, and Evan. Or at the very least Evan knows there’s a girl that Perry’s fine with letting sneak in to borrow their stuff. It’s safe for Perry to know her fluidity, since Cathy’s known about xem since the talent show that semester the Hall was trying to get the pool. Some guys are gymnasts. Some guys are gymnasts who would rather be doing the ribbon. Even busy hacking up her skirt Cathy saw that. Sadly, xe’s too scared to do what she’s doing in reverse. Which sucks for xem, because xe could probably pass on sheer looks alone. Xyr face is girlier than hers is guyish.

A lot of times she’s able sneak in quietly enough that she doesn’t wake them up. It was a skill she had even before meeting Bruno and Boots. At home there’s a tree against her window and a neighbour that lets her be a guy friend of his. Today she gets in a little later than normal and Perry’s already up, reading an English Lit book in xyr nightgown. Xe instinctively dives under the sheets before realising it’s her.

“Hi,” xe whispers, kind enough to not disturb Evan.

“I like the lace,” she whispers back.

“No you don’t.”

It’s true. She doesn’t. She fucking hates it. But she knows how to compliment people regardless of her own tastes. “I like it on you. It looks nice.”

Perry smiles and thanks her. Cathy kicks her shoes off once she’s all the way through the window and tiptoes to the closet. Evan likes layers, vests on top of long sleeved button downs on top of t-shirts. It’s not a great look, but it’s a look that lets her hide her breasts, as long as she doesn’t draw attention to them with a lot of arm movements.

She changes in the bathroom, not bothering to lock or even fully close the door. Neither of them have the slightest interest in her. The biggest problem, as always, is her long hair. She can’t cut it. When she’s feeling femme, she loves having hair long enough that Diane will sometimes comb it for her. But when she’s masc, it’s annoying. Even tying it back is a poor solution, seeing as it makes her one of those hipster douches with a ponytail. When she’s comfortable, confident that she could pass as a cisboy, she sits on Perry’s bed and reads with xem. Xe doesn’t get enough affection, Cathy’s sure of it, and it costs her nothing to rest her head on xyr shoulder and read a chapter of whatever’s currently assigned.

Eventually Evan gets up. Quiet compliments are the most Cathy can expect from him, and those are rare, but given all the possibilities it’s a top shelf reaction. Evan dresses, and Perry puts on xyr male costume, swallowing compulsively until xe’s ready to face the misgendering world for another day. Cathy could go to breakfast with them. She often does, these mornings of her last semester of secondary education. Macdonald Hall and Scrimmage’s have schedules different enough to allow for a first course here before she has to leave and attend her own breakfast complete with flower centerpieces on every table. It’s her chance to really blend in. Get lost in the crowd. She’s got half a decade’s worth of history with these boys, and not a single one of them see Cathy Burton. It’s the greatest feeling in the world. The first time she put her tray on a Macdonald Hall table beside some red haired kid and his first comment wasn’t ‘Ahhh! A girl!!!’, but instead about how Cathy’d have a heart attack if he really eats that much bacon, but he’d take some off his hands, if he wants, Cathy nearly floated to heaven. She doesn’t care about pronouns, usually, but male pronouns by the unsuspecting while feeling masc is fucking amazing.

There is, however, another option. A road less taken, because the more she does it, the more it means. Four months until grad and dispersal to universities unknown is too late to develop something meaningful. But she feels good today, almost sexy in the weird clothes Evan has provided. So she parts ways with Perry and Evan and heads for Dorm Two. She knows they’ll be there. Bruno doesn’t eat breakfast. Boots used to, but lately he’s on a weird chocolate flavour protein shake diet that had Wilbur practically disowning him. 

Boots smiles when he opens the door. “Hey Burton.” 

Cathy’s not a dead name. She’s fine with it, even when she feels her most masculine. If Perry’s ever reveals xyrs she’ll switch in a heartbeat, obviously, but for her part she’s good. Still, it’s nice that Boots and Bruno acknowledge her presentation. Nice, and good for the loincloth, because this wouldn’t be an option if they didn’t recognise her maleness. From two sides, even. She could never mess around with someone who doesn’t respect her, but they’re both gay enough to not fool around with girls.

“Hey Boots,” she replies. And that’s it for conversation, because she has time constraints. She closes the door, muffling the sounds of a few dozen boys waking up down the length of the hallway, and steps into Boots’ space. He’s taller than she is, a reverse of the problem she has with Diane, but Cathy doesn’t mind. The difference offers fun solutions, like grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and yanking him down to her level. The fabric stays bunched in her hands as their lips meet, as Boots’ mouth opens under her onslaught. He’s just so easy to boss around, even when it comes to something as simple as a french kiss. 

“If anything is worth waking up a guy in the morning, that is,” Bruno catcalls. He’s just sat up, blanket still haphazardly draped over one leg. His hair is completely bed ruffled, and there are pillow marks on his face. Cathy shouldn’t find that as hot as she does.

Femme Cathy would make big on the compliment. She’d pretend to curtsy, or act out some ‘you really like me’ academy speech. Really make the room laugh. Masc Cathy is a bit of a different person. Now she only says “hurry up and rinse your mouth,” before turning back to Boots, who’s been waiting patiently for her attentions. 

Cathy hears the slurp of what can only be Bruno sucking down some of Boots’ nasty protein shake. She firmly sides with Wilbur on that. No matter what sports scholarship Boots goes with -he’s got five offers over three sports, the fucking maniac athlete- there’s still no call for ingesting only liquids, rather than a nice big plate of bacon and eggs. But it does its purpose, coating Bruno’s teeth and cheeks in gritty faux-chocolate rather than the lingering scent of morning breath. When he cuts in and slams his mouth onto Cathy’s it’s the better of two evils. At least it allows for a tongue in hers without wrinkling her nose.

Bruno kisses like their mouths are fighting. It’s not the way he kisses Boots. Of course it’s not, because it’s not the way _she_ kisses Boots. They’re the same person to an uncomfortable level, sometimes. With her, they both want to be in control, both want the power in the room. It’s fucking exhilarating to make out with someone that can go toe to toe with you. 

It’s impossible to say who pushes who towards the bed. No. It’s not. Cathy does it. But she knows Bruno would have any moment, just as she knows whomever did it, Boots would have followed. Diane would follow her too, but she doesn’t like dudes so she’s not invited to these mornings. Cathy doesn’t feel bad about the shove. They have no time, the seconds until she has to put in an appearance at breakfast melting away, but it doesn’t matter. If she had all day, she’d still be impatient. She’s always impatient, unless a Plan necessitates waiting. If she wasn’t impatient to see them naked it would be disrespectful.

After nine and a half semesters of dorm living, they’re all deft enough to maneuver on the twin bed to kneel facing each other. Most wouldn’t consider a meager twin to be sex furniture, but it’s the only thing they’ve got. Three way desk sex sounds even more uncomfortable. Bruno’s totally naked, cock gorgeously at attention. Cathy didn’t see him discard his boxers, or even where he flung them, but there’s no question of his nudity. Boots is less bare, but he has taken off his hoodie, revealing a delightfully sculpted chest. Good choice for him, since one of them probably would have manhandled it off, had he not. As for Cathy, when she’s like this she likes to keep to the role. Not maintain the illusion, she’s not pretending, and she’s not dysphoric either, unlike Perry. It just feels better to stick her hand down her jeans and grab herself a little more roughly than she usually would.

This is how her fantasies go too. Wandering through the cafeteria, six hundred boys with their pants down jerking off and she just sits down and joins in and no one notices that she’s not supposed to be there. It’ll stay a fantasy, of course. Even Bruno couldn’t organise a school wide masturbation session, no matter what sanctity was about to be lost. But this, this lines up closely enough to an impossible fantasy to make her feel reeeal good. Circle jerk? Check. Masc presenting? Check. Passing in the gaze of others? Check. Cathy knows she can only have this for so long. They’ll be graduating soon. The more she does this, the more it’ll hurt when she can’t anymore. But the inner voice that says ‘fuck it, fuck you’ to anyone and anything trying to impress seriousness or direction upon her is in full force in this moment, so she spreads her legs to better brace herself and Plans to jerk off ‘til she comes, watching her favourite boys in the world do the same.


End file.
